


out of body

by thewordweaver



Series: thunderous flamenco [1]
Category: Persona 5, Persona Series
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Alcohol, Blow Jobs, Canon Compliant, Clubbing, College, Drunk Sex, Dubious Consent, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Light Angst, Mutual Pining, Post-Canon, Spoilers, Spongebob Voice: The Gang's All Here, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex, bc I can never write anything purely happy lmao, but this is mainly abt Ryuji and Ann, just a lil bit, the others will get a fic later lmao, there are technically other ships subtly in this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-01
Updated: 2017-06-01
Packaged: 2018-11-05 07:26:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,047
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11008743
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thewordweaver/pseuds/thewordweaver
Summary: You glide across the space and diagonal past, then you kick and you turn and you arch yourback.





	out of body

**Author's Note:**

> welcome to rarepair hell those of you that ship this
> 
> I don't ship a whole lot for the PT actually  
> check out this list brah:
> 
> Yusuke/Akira  
> Ann/Shiho  
> Yusuke/Futaba  
> Ann/Ryuji (obvs)  
> Akira/Haru
> 
> with the exception of one, I am permanently in rarepair hell :^)  
> and for those of you trapped with me, they'll all get a fic down the line lmao
> 
> also holy FUCK this is so much longer and filthier (... lol) than I anticipated  
> uh whoops I guess?

> ( _there's always stains on what's real and true_ )

 

 **Takamaki Ann [13:21]:** _Hey guys! Now that Akira’s back, and we all got into Tokyo unis, we should do something to celebrate!_

 **Kitagawa Yusuke [13:23]:** _I concur! Should we throw another party then? It has been some time since we threw the last one._

 **Sakura Futaba [13:24]:** _nah dude. we’ve thrown party after party for everything. i’m bored with em now. let’s do something else._

 **Takamaki Ann [13:26]:** _Perfect timing Futaba! I actually have juuuuuust the idea. ;)_

 **Sakamoto Ryuji [13:29]:** _Ann? With an idea? Now this I gotta hear._

 **Kurusu Akira [13:29]:** _Well lets hear it then Ann_

 **Takamaki Ann [13:31]:** _Well I was thinking… why don’t we go clubbing!?_

 **Takamaki Ann [13:34]:** _I mean, the Red Light District in Shinjuku always seemed like fun, especially after the experience we heard about Ryuji having there, and I’ve heard the clubs are unmatched, so why don’t we go all out for this party!?_

 **Takamaki Ann [13:34]:** _And now that we’re old enough, we’d have absolutely no problem doing whatever we wanted there!_

 **Sakamoto Ryuji [13:36]:** _I dunno if it’s just you not rememberin things correctly, but I definitely did NOT have fun the last time I was in Shinjuku!_

 **Okumura Haru [13:37]:** _What’s this about Shinjuku?_

 **Okumura Haru [13:38]:** _Oh, clubbing for a commemoration? How delightful!_ _❤_

 **Okumura Haru [13:38]:** _I concur with Ann-chan. We should go!_

 **Sakura Futaba [13:38]:** _uh… clubbing? you mean… where tons of people go just to writhe around against each other in a tight, stuffy building!?_

 **Kurusu Akira [13:39]:** _Consider it more exposure therapy Futaba_

 **Sakura Futaba [13:39]:** _NO!!! ABSOLUTELY NOT!!!!!_

 **Kurusu Akira [13:41]:** _If you come with Ill get you that motherboard youve been eyeing for a month now_

 **Sakura Futaba [13:41]:** _clubbing sounds like a great idea, ann_

 **Sakamoto Ryuji [13:42]:** _Wow, Futaba. Bought that easily, huh…_

 **Sakamoto Ryuji [13:43]:** _Well count me out. I ain’t ever goin back to Shinjuku._

 **Takamaki Ann [13:44]:** _C’mon, Ryuji! Pleeeeeeeease? It’s been so long since we’ve all gotten together like this! It’ll be fun!_

 **Kurusu Akira [13:45]:** _Ill take you back to the Wilton buffet_

 **Sakamoto Ryuji [13:46]:** _Clubbin, huh? Sounds good. I’m in._

 **Takamaki Ann [13:47]:** _> _>;_

 **Takamaki Ann [13:48]:** _Aaaaaaanyway, what about you, Yusuke? Will you be able to come?_

 **Kitagawa Yusuke [13:50]:** _Hm… a club?_

 **Kitagawa Yusuke [13:52]:** _Yes… a club… the raw passion of dancers moving mindlessly along the floor… the dizzying smell of sweat in the humid air… the joy of unrestricted consumption of alcohol…_

 **Kitagawa Yusuke [13:52]:** _I do believe that my attendance will provide me with_

 **Takamaki Ann [13:53]:** _… So is that a yes or?_

 **Kurusu Akira [13:53]:** _Thats Yusuke for yes_

 **Kitagawa Yusuke [13:54]:** _My greatest inspiration yet!_

 **Takamaki Ann [13:56]:** _Okay… anyway, great! How’s Saturday night sound? We can meet up at Leblanc at 9pm. Good?_

 **Sakura Futaba [13:56]:** _sounds good to me._

 **Kurusu Akira [13:57]:** _Dont be late everyone_

 **Kurusu Akira [13:57]:** _Wait what about Makoto_

 **Kitagawa Yusuke [13:57]:** _I will certainly see you all then._

 **Okumura Haru [13:58]:** _She’s still in class right now. I’ll let her know our plans. See you Saturday, everyone!_ _❤_

 **Okumura Haru [13:59]:** _Oh, before I go, Akira, would you let me borrow Morgana that day? He must be dressed too if he’s coming with us!_

 **Sakamoto Ryuji [13:59]:** _Not that I got a choice otherwise…_

 **Kurusu Akira [13:59]:** _Ill let him know to meet up with you_

 **Okumura Haru [14:00]:** _Thank you!_

 **Takamaki Ann [14:01]:** _See you Saturdaaaaay! ;)_

 

* * *

 

‘ _Shit, this was a bad idea._ ’

‘ _Holy_ shit _, this was a bad idea._ ’

The moment the natural blonde walks through the door, Ryuji’s conversation with Akira ends abruptly, mouth dry as he peers over the shoulder of his bespectacled friend.

Akira, of course, quirks an eyebrow at this, turning in his seat at the booth to see just what has muted the usually boisterous dyed blond. Ann is covered in a lustful red bodycon dress, her waist and the start of her hips exposed by the tasteful cutouts, its fabric stopping just at midthigh. The thick blonde hair usually in pigtails is now swept over her right shoulder; her already taller-than-average height is raised by four inches with open-toed, three-strapped, nude stilettos. To say Ann is quite an eye catch tonight is an understatement.

The head of black smirks.

“Good evening, Ann,” he greets as he slides out of the booth, walking up to her and chortling as he must look up slightly at her. “You look great.”

“You too, Akira!” She grins as she studies his form, nodding in approval at the black blazer that is rolled up to mid-forearm and buttoned at the end of his sternum, a crisp white tee underneath; the ensemble is accompanied by gray jeans held by a buckled, black belt and just as black dress shoes. “Ooh, this is gonna be so much fun! Is anyone else here?”

Her eye catches the frozen figure still in the booth, eyebrows lifting before she claps her hands together and closes her eyes, teeth still shining under the lights of the café. Her eyes reopen as she turns to face the door when it jingles with a message of a new arrival.

Ann squeals.

“H-Hey, Ann. Akira. Ryuji.”

With Futaba’s call of his name, the spell on Ryuji is broken, the blond clearing his throat as he leaves the booth in favour of leaning against the counter of the bar (not too close to Ann, of course). “Hey, Futaba. You look good.”

“You… you think so?”

The redhead stands nervously in a mint green halter-topped skater dress that fell to midthigh, her hair up in a high ponytail, the cold hands fidgeting behind her back startling her by making contact with her skin exposed through the tear-shaped opening in the back of the dress. Her hands moved to crumple the bottom layers of her dress within her clammy palms, her two-inch, close-toed, pure white pumps helping her shift from side to side.

“We know so,” Akira says, voice as soft as always and even softer for Futaba as he motions for her to come closer. “Would you show us the rest?” he asks once she clicks forward, holding out his hand. She nods hesitantly, placing her hand in his and laughing quietly as he twirls her slowly to let everyone see the entirety of her outfit.

“It really suits you!” Ann offers as well, moving to sit next to where Ryuji stands at the bar. “I can’t wait to see what everyone else looks like!”

“Y-Yeah.” Cursing himself internally for his embarrassing stammer, he leans away as subtly as he can from her, pulling at the collar of his deep blue shirt, feeling just a tad too hot underneath it. The button-down’s sleeves stop at his elbows, shoulders trimmed with gold roses, leaves, and vines; the buckled belt, denim, and dress shoes are all black.

Ann notes all of this from the corner of her twinkling eye, smirking at how nicely he has managed to clean up. “You don’t look so bad yourself, Ryuji. I’m surprised you even had clothes for something like this.”

“Uh, thanks… I, ah, had to buy these yesterday actually…” His lips form a firm line as he turns his head away from her, shoving his hands in his pockets as he suddenly becomes fascinated with scoffing his right shoe against the wood floors.

Just as she had opened her mouth to ask what the hell is up with him, the door opens once again, the group of four turning their gazes to the figures walking through.

“Good evening, everyone!” Haru’s cheerful voice chirps, a cross Morgana in her arms, with Makoto following behind her. “Sorry we’re late!”

“We had to bribe Morgana to get him into that bowtie,” Makoto laughs, walking to the booth nearest to the door and leaning against it.

The black and white cat brooding in silence reluctantly wears a red bowtie, dotted with white. He had jumped down from the lighter brunette’s arms, the girl’s normally free and fluffy hair held in a bun at the crown of her head, equally parted bangs framing her face. Her peach dress starts with a mock neck, sheer mesh extending from there down to just past her collarbones. After the mesh to just over her knees, the midi dress ruches, the look completed with three-inch, open-toed, nude stilettoes, a thin bow at her ankles.

With Morgana out of the way, Akira steps forward, reaching for her hand and bowing at the waist. “Good evening, my lady,” he purrs before kissing the back of her hand.

Both Futaba and Morgana gag. “Can you save that for _after_ the club? You know, when we’re _not_ all here watching? You’ll have plenty of time to make heart eyes and whatever else at each other then.” Her nose wrinkles before looking to the cat that had leapt up onto the table Makoto was next to. “You can come home with me tonight, Morgana. Seems your master’ll be busy later.”

Akira glances over his shoulder with a look once he stands at full height before looking to Makoto. “A fine look for you.”

“Thanks. It’s not often I have a reason to get dressy, so I went all out, you know?” She blushes slightly, trying to play off the black, long-sleeved dress she wears that runs down to midthigh. She brushes off its billowy sleeves before tucking a hair behind her ear, her ankles that cross extending to hold close-toed, black platform heels, studded with silver at the toe. “I-It’s really no big deal, though. Anyway, is everyone here?”

After a quick count, Morgana shakes his head. “Unless he’s upstairs, where’s Fo—”

“Oh, is this the wrong café? My apologies for the intrusion.” Just as quickly as the door had opened, it shuts, the group of seven staring in absolute silence at Yusuke’s instant arrival and departure.

… And arrival again.

“N-No, this most certainly is Leblanc…! … Oh. Good evening, everyone.” The “fashionably” late artist is clad in a pure white dress shirt, layered with a deep blue button-down vest. To finish his outfit, he wears khaki denim and brown dress shoes.

“… You’re late, Inari,” Futaba chides, glaring at him for just a second with her hands on her hips before whipping her head in the opposite direction, hiding the lightest of blushes that stains her cheeks.

“Sorry. My clothes took some time to choose, and by the time I finally came to a decision, it was already this late… You all look so different, I thought I had gotten lost!”

“More than usual?” the hacker mutters to herself with a roll of her eyes.

With her comment unacknowledged, he makes a frame with his fingers, panning around the café until his gaze settles upon the two blonds in the back. “Ah, a beautiful sight indeed! The usually crass and loud-mouthed boy, stunned into silence by the vixen before him… the nervousness… the admiration… a wondrous image I hope to capture onto canvas…!”

“ _Dude, what the hell!?_ ” Ryuji shouts, immediately standing tall and looking furiously at Yusuke. “You can’t just say things like that out loud! Do you even hear yourself right now!?”

Sensing the light distress that befalls the group, Makoto springs into action, hands motioning for the two to settle down. “Hey now, tonight’s supposed to be a good time for everyone. Let’s not start it off on the wrong foot, okay?”

Shaking her head, Futaba trudges to the door, hooking her arm with Yusuke’s along the way to drag him with her outside. “Let’s go, Inari, before you go saying something tactless again.”

“’Tactless?’ What did I say to make you even think such a thing? Surely you saw that—”

The door shuts, effectively muffling any of the rambling that he is sure to have continued.

Akira pushes a laugh through his nose as he laces his hand with Haru’s. “Shall we?” With her nod of approval, the pair follows, Makoto taking hold of Morgana before trailing out after the other four.

Realising he and Ann are the last ones in the café, Ryuji clears his throat again, not looking her way as he walks past her to the door. “W-Well? What are we waitin’ for? It’s time to go.”

Ann’s eyebrow lifts as she still notices his odd behaviour, but she keeps her comments to herself, knowing he will merely get defensive again if she brings it up. Instead, she shows him her appreciation with a “thank you” when he at least acknowledges her existence by holding the door open and letting her step out first.

She hopes that the silence means her plan is working.

 

* * *

 

‘ _Oh, it’s workin'._ ’

‘ _I dunno_  what _she’s plannin', but whatever it is, it’s workin'._ ’

Even from where she stands on the dancefloor with Makoto and Haru, she can see Ryuji practically sweating and squirming on the barstool as he watches her, completely and utterly mesmerized by the way she moves. She can see the way his eyes trace the shuffle of her feet; the sway of her hips; the bounce of her breasts; the flow of her hair.

Her eyes meet with his, smirking when she catches the blush that rises from his neck to his face upon realising he had been caught ogling her red-handed, quickly grabbing his cup of Scotch on the Rocks next to him. He stares down at the cubes floating in the glass, deciding he finds the shapes far more interesting than the girl underneath the lights.

“Ann looks really nice tonight, doesn’t she?” Akira says from next to Ryuji, voice a bit strained from raising it higher than usual.

“Honestly? Yeah, dude. I really hope she spares me the details about her hook-up tomorrow, though.”

“’Hook-up?’ What makes you think that’ll happen?”

“Dude, for real? What girl dresses like that and _doesn’t_ expect to get laid?” The blond sighs, turning in his seat to face the bar, holding his head in his hands.

At this, Akira laughs, placing his elbow on the counter and pressing his fist against his cheek. When he hears Ryuji ask, “What’s so funny?” he merely laughs again, shaking his head. “Oh, nothing, nothing. It’s just been some time since I’ve seen you like this, is all. It’s adorable watching how flustered you can get with her.”

 

As the night passes on with four and a half members of the Phantom Thieves at the bar (Akira leaves every so often to join the three girls on the dance floor, returning just to snag another drink), Ryuji takes his time nursing drinks, scowl growing deeper every time he hears Morgana ramble about Ann. “How lovely Lady Ann looks tonight! Ah, I wish I were human already, so I could sweep her off her feet!”

“Honestly, why did Haru even bother pulling strings to get this stupid cat in? We shoulda just left him in Yongen,” he grumbles, hearing a sweaty, out-of-breath Akira chuckle beside him.

“It wouldn’t be a celebration without _all_ of—oh. Hey, Ann.”

Ryuji freezes at the greeting, wide eyes glancing over his shoulder to see the woman of his (many wet) dreams. “Hey, you guys!” she chirps before turning her attentions to the blond alone. “You wanna come dance with me? You haven’t left this bar all night!” In her more-than-tipsy state, she throws herself onto him, her chin on his left shoulder and her right hand draped over the right.

“You should go,” Akira adds, encouraging his flustered friend.

“O-Oh, well, I-I…” His body tenses up underneath her, mind and mouth fumbling for a way to get out of this situation. “I can’t just… leave my drink, y’know? Could get drugged while I’m gone an—”

His eyes widen further when she reaches for his martini glass and chugs it, lips slowly licking off the salt and stray drops of alcohol, looking him dead in the eye as she does so. His eyes flicker to that pretty pink tongue for just a second as he swallows audibly.

“Will you come dance with me now?”

He nods dumbly under the enchantment of her “accidental” enticement, putting up no resistance as she takes his hand and drags him to the core of the dancefloor. “Now the fun can _really_ begin!”

She sways against him to the beat of the pulsing bass all around them, in sync with the other writhing bodies beside them… save for him. At just the first press of her hips against his, he is a statue, entire body flushed as his feet root to the ground, a mildly panicked expression etched onto the pliant stone.

“Ryuji…” She stops momentarily, wrapping her arms around his neck as a pout purses those plush lips. “You aren’t dancing. This is the dancefloor. You can’t stay still on a dancefloor! You gotta dance!” She clicks her tongue, tilting her head slightly as she studies his face. “Do you not know how? Luckily, the great thing about clubs is that all you have to do is move to the music. No special skills involved. You can at least do _that_ , right?”

His eyes flicker to the face just slightly above his, life suddenly returning to the elastic marble that nearly cements itself to the floor. “Y-Yeah, of course. I, uh…” He takes a deep breath once she begins her sway once more, his own movements slowly but surely beginning to align with hers.

He falls out of alignment upon placing his hands on her hips, recoiling them away as though he had been burned by the touch of her warm skin. How could he have forgotten about her exposed waist?

Laughing, she slides her hands down from his neck, gliding over his shoulders and arms until her hands eclipse his, taking them and holding them at her hips. “It’s fine. Besides, where else are you gonna put them?”

Just like before, all he can do is nod, blaming his complete compliance on the buzzing sensation he feels in the back of his head.

 

The pair returns to the bar now and then for the same reasons Akira had; Ann orders a drink each time they visit (putting them on the tab Haru so graciously started for them), while Ryuji had stopped after the martini he had had a few sips of before it had disappeared right before his very eyes. For a while, he feels that perhaps the move of her hips and the arch of her back will be better received if he had gotten as wasted as she is.

But it is now that he knows his sobriety had a use after all.

Ann’s dancing becomes much less coordinated following their sixth trip to the dancefloor, Ryuji catching her with ease when she almost sinks to the ground. “Alright, I’m thinkin’ maybe you need to stop for a bit…,” he mutters to himself. He leads them to the nearest wall, as the shifting of the crowd had pushed them a bit too far from the bar; there is no way she will make it in this condition.

It takes a bit of maneuvering, but once he makes it to the wall, he helps her prop up against it, his own body pressing close due to the lack of space what with where they are. “Hey, maybe it’s time you consider—”

In her inebriation, she misreads the situation, seeing way he has her walled in, left hand in a fist above her head and hips against hers to hold her to the wall. In an instant, her arms wrap around his neck, lips meeting his as her hips shift, grinding against his. At this, his lips part in a low, unconscious moan, Ann taking this opportunity to pounce; her tongue slips into his mouth without a hitch.

The tang of alcohol on her tongue pulls him out of the moment before he indulges in it, breaking their kiss and taking a half step away from her, the hands on her shoulders keeping her at arm’s length. “Okay, Ann,” he huffs breathlessly, taking a hand away to run it through his hair, willing his overheating body to somehow cool down in the humidity of this club. “You’re really drunk. I think it’s about time you head home.”

“Hm… only if you’re the one taking me home,” she sings, oblivious to the way he intentionally ignores the implications of her teasing.

“’Course I am, I’m the only one that can deal with your wasted ass,” he grumbles as he shakes his head, taking her by the hand and slinging her left arm across his shoulders, his right arm around her waist. He makes the trek back to the bar, nodding in greeting at the three mainstays, as well as the new addition of Makoto.

“Ann’s way too drunk, so I’m gonna take her home. See you guys later; it’s been fun… kinda.”

While the three humans merely nod back in confirmation, the feline launches into a tirade of complaints, vehemently opposing this idea. “ _You!?_ Take Lady Ann _home!?_ No way! Nuh-uh! How do you we know you won’t try anything f—!? Mmph!?”

Makoto silences the restless cat as she sets him in her lap, left arm around his middle to restrict his flailing and right hand muffling his mouth. “Have a safe trip back,” she says warmly, a matching smile accompanying her words. “Make sure to lie her on her side, so that if she throws up in her sleep, she won’t drown herself.”

With one last farewell, the pair of blonds depart, all four watching after them until they are out of sight.

“You know,” Yusuke mutters as he falls into thought, pointer finger and thumb framing his chin, “Ryuji and Ann were on the floor together for quite some time… and Ann was quite enthusiastic with the way she was dancing against him… is there perhaps something going on between them?”

Futaba nearly chokes on her drink, patting her chest as she coughs out the sharp burn that had trickled down the wrong pipe. “Are you… _kidding_ … me? All that… stuff you said at… Leblanc and… you don’t even—I can’t… believe you!” She coughs up a bit of a storm before clearing her throat, voice now coming out in a gentle rasp. “I guess those two aren’t the only ones who never caught on… God, Inari, you wouldn’t notice someone pining if it hit you in the face.”

“Why do you sound almost… disappointed?”

“That’s none of your business."

She hopes the two that had left find far more success than she apparently ever will.

 

* * *

 

‘ _If this is a dream, don’t wake me up._ ’

‘ _I swear, if my alarm wakes me up, I_ will _snap my fuckin' phone in half._ ’

Ryuji currently finds himself pinned between Ann and her couch, his wrists trapped in her hands, held against the back cushions. The way he had found himself in such a state is a blur in his memory, a flurry of motions he had been helpless to stop: through the door, to the couch, seating next to her, a body falling into his lap just as he had been ready to stand.

The Metaverse had been gone for two years now, but it seems her skills had not rusted in the slightest.

He nearly draws blood from his lip when Ann’s hips rut against his, face flushing when he catches that damn smirk on her face from the object that hardens between them. He struggles weakly in her grip, still of the decency to know that they probably should not do this while her intoxication is still in effect (despite how much the strain in his pants wants otherwise). This stops, however, when her lips slant over his, her tongue commandeering his in a searing, sloppy kiss.

When they pull away for air, Ryuji tips his head back, eyes closing as he takes gasps of air, thinking of the worst things he could imagine to calm himself down.

The press of her breasts against him as she leans forward to decorate his neck with lipstick and love bites immediately negates his efforts, riling him up further.

“A-Ann… we shouldn’t… you’re… you’re still drunk,” he pants, hands falling to his sides and clutching the fabric of her couch once she releases his wrists. “This ain’t right…”

“Do you… not want this?” she slurs smoothly, pausing in her work on his button-down; she had lowered herself, nearly kneeling in front of him as she cocks her head curiously. “Because _I’ve_ wanted this for a long time…” Her body slithers back up for now, nipping at his earlobe before she murmurs, “Doesn’t this feel good?” She chooses that moment to trace his collarbone with her right hand, dragging it down over the part of his chest that she had exposed, ending at the inside of his thigh.

“It does, it’s just…! S-Shit, Ann!” His body shudders when the tip of her finger traces swirls up and down his thigh, feeling the (not-so-) coincidental brushes against the tent in his pants.

“Do you want this, Ryuji? Yes or no?” she palms his cock entirely then, hand working at him slowly, torturously.

“ _Shit_ , y-yes; Ann, I…! Ah, _fuck_ , yes, I— _Ann, please!_ ”

His will crumbles, obliterated by just her hand alone.

“Good answer,” she purrs with one last nip at his ear, moving her hand to help the other finish its work on his shirt. Once she has it pushed back to his shoulders, she kneels in front of him completely, starting to unbuckle his belt, giggling to herself when she sees him covering his face with both hands; his head is still tilted back over the couch, his bashfulness restricting him from watching her. He takes a deep breath and holds it in anticipation when he feels the tug of fabric at his hips, aiding her slightly by lifting his ass off the seat long enough for her to get his pants and boxers down to his ankles.

The feel of wet, however, had been _far_ from what he had anticipated. His body flinches as a stream of swears leaves his mouth, a temptation to watch growing with each twirl of her tongue around his cock. He gives in, of course, a few seconds later, pausing once his hands lift from his face before his head lowers.

Bright blue eyes stare back at him, one corner of her lips lifting as she pulls back, a grin on her face when she sees him flounder for words until a hand covers his eyes again. “Ryuji,” she coos sweetly, tone of voice greatly contrasting her actions; she uses the hand that had not been wrapped around him to reach up and pry his hand away from his face. “You’ll like it more if you watch.”

He relents, body and breath shuddering as he lies witness to her licking a thin stripe up from the underside of the base. His eyes never leave her form as she tucks a hair behind her ear, preparation for the moment she takes him into her mouth again.

He is so enraptured by her alone that he does not realise his orgasm is almost upon him until she locks eyes with him again and _winks_ , causing his blunt nails to leave light scars in the fabric of the couch. “A-Ann, if you don’t… I’m gonna… if you…”

She pulls away entirely then, a feeling of both relief and frustration washing over him simultaneously; he takes this opportunity to breathe fully, at the very least. He had been almost certain he nearly fainted at one point.

The feeling shows that it had never really left as his eyes round out, mesmerized as she kicks off her heels and shimmies out of the black _thong_ that had hidden underneath her dress. “The night’s not over yet,” she says, glassy eyes half-lidded as she settles her weight into his lap once more, arms loosely slinging over his shoulders.

“W-Wait, Ann! A-Ain’t this goin’ a bit too far!?” he stammers, the hesitancy to put his hands on her waist returning, doubly so when she slides the slickness of herself against him. Whatever blood that had been used for his brain trying to tell him to stop her had very quickly rushed south. “W-we can’t! You’re still dru— _a-aah!_ … Hah…”

Without even the slightest hint of warning, she had lifted her hips and sank herself down onto him, a soft but sharp moan leaving her parted lips. As her forehead meets his shoulder, his head tilts back again, his right arm throwing itself over his eyes as his left hand finally decided to grip her waist, and tightly.

This is it, he realizes. He had not been dreaming; he is dying and this is clearly the last fantasy his brain indulges him in until he leaves God’s green earth.

And the tightening of her walls around him swiftly rips him out of that absurd train of thought; this is _very_ real and _very_ happening.

“I hope you—hah!—feel as good as I do,” she groans, gradually starting to rock her hips, the smallest of lifts and lowers in her disorganized rhythm. It takes her a moment to accommodate herself to him, a moment he is more than happy to have; he uses it to get his bearings straight, mind racing a mile a minute until her increasingly constant pace helps him focus on one thing, and one thing alone.

_This feels unbearably good._

It is not much longer until he thrusts his own hips upward, matching her movements rut for rut. His arm slides off his face, both now wrapping around her in a firm hold as his lips find hers, mouths open as tongues meet.

His pace soon becomes too much for Ann to keep up with, arms sliding back until her nails can dig into the skin on his shoulders, tossing her head back as she moans his name. Ryuji himself makes his pleasure quite audible as well, if not even more than her, continuous curses and a mantra of her name rumbling from the deepest part of his chest.

When he feels his peak drawing near again, his hold on her waist is vice-like, nose burying itself in the crook of her neck. But though he had felt himself spurred on more by her cries of “God, Ryuji, I’m close! So close…!”

… Something feels amiss.

The sudden cessation of his hips causes her to whine, slurring an annoyed query about what gives. She finds a yelp from herself following said question, dress whipped off her body and tossed onto the floor, his own clothes chasing after it.

In two flutters of her lashes, she realizes he has now pinned her underneath him, his left hand grabbing hold of her right leg to hook it around his hip before moving to settle beside her head, propping himself up. With a push forward, he sinks into her at last, taking a few thrusts to watch as he slides in and out of the deliciously velvet-like feel.

His attention diverts back to her, free hand snaking down between them to find what he assumes will be there. What little he knows about the details concerning the female form seems to be true, as her cries increase in volume while his thumb massages her clit, pressure gentle but firm. Her hands extend out toward him and he leans down, smiling to himself when she traps him in her hold.

“P-Please don’t stop this time…! I’m—I’m gonna… Ryuji… _Ryuji_ …”

“I love you,” he blurts out, though his voice is barely above a whisper. “I love you, Ann. I love you so much, I’ve loved you for _so long_ …”

Any hopes that she had not heard him are dashed when she responds in kind. “I love… I love you… Ryuji…”

And for a moment, he thinks he hears clarity within the cloud of her inebriation. It is this. This is what had been missing.

He holds out long enough to let her come first, her cry breaking before muting itself, her back arching to press her body further against his. Seconds later, the increased tightness of her around him has him unraveling as well, hips stuttering to a stop once the shivers start to wrack his body.

They lie in near silence for a few minutes, heavy breaths attempting to refill empty, winded lungs. “Stay here,” he says at last, getting to his feet to tidy up the mess they both are, at least enough to take to bed.

Clearing his throat to hide his chuckle at her wobbling legs, they make their way to Ann’s bedroom, dyed blond making sure natural is all tucked in and comfortable before crawling in beside her, the pair warm and cozy under the sheet. He combs his fingers through the wavy strands, making mental observations of her movements as she falls asleep in seconds.

A fond smile appears on his lips at this, though it soon turns remorseful.

He hopes the ensuing fallout will not destroy him, at least not entirely.

 

* * *

 

‘ _She won’t forgive this._ ’

‘ _No matter what I do, she won’t forgive this, and she_ shouldn’t.’

He wakes up just as the sun stains the sky with rich pink, chasing away deep purples with its overbearing clouds and quiet stars. A mild soreness is felt all along his body, one that he may have found pride in had it not been for the circumstances that had caused it.

Ryuji leaves the bed carefully, leaving Ann undisturbed as he exits the room to retrieve his clothes, the process slow as all the thoughts he had pushed away the night before returning in full swing. Completely clothed, he returns to her room, seating himself at the edge of the bed next to her.

“You probably won’t remember what I said last night,” he murmurs as he brushes her hair away from her face, “but I… I meant it. All of it. I just wish I coulda said it at the right time… _Dammit_.” He shakes his head, his hand falling from her face and onto the bed below, curling into a fist. “I’m so sorry, and no amount of apologizin’ will make up for what I did.”

Standing up, he reaches for her face once more, fingers skimming along the apple of her cheek, caressing the softness of her skin. With a heavy sigh, he stops himself, walking to her door before he stays long enough to face the consequences he is not ready for. He steals one last glance at her from the doorway, vanishing with the crack of dawn.

When she hears her front door close, she sits up in an instant, hand holding her forehead to clear the vertigo before it covers where his touch lingers on her cheek. She had woken up when the bed creaked with the signal of his first shift away from her, managing to maintain a sleeping ruse despite the ache throbbing in her head and everywhere else.

Ann stares in thought at the place he had once occupied in her bed until the trill of her phone breaks her from her reverie. A few grunts and groans later, she is covered in a bath robe, out in the living room to see what had caused her phone to sound off.

 

{ **Sakamoto Ryuji [05:47]:** _I know you’ll have a ton of questions when you wake up._

 **Sakamoto Ryuji [05:48]:** _But I wanna answer them in person, the next time we see each other. I owe you that much, at least._

 **Sakamoto Ryuji [05:50]:** _For now though, I just wanna say I’m sorry. I know I royally fucked up this time._

 **Sakamoto Ryuji [05:50]:** _I’m so fucking sorry, Ann._ }

 

With a dry laugh, she runs a hand through her tangled hair, falling back onto her couch.

“You idiot. The one who royally fucked up is me.”

**Author's Note:**

> \- [Ann's outfit](https://www.lulus.com/products/feeling-the-heat-red-cutout-bodycon-dress/379442.html)  
> \- [Futaba's outfit](https://www.lulus.com/products/dress-rehearsal-mint-green-skater-dress/270026.html)  
> \- [Haru's outfit](https://www.lulus.com/products/give-me-a-chance-peach-bodycon-midi-dress/454392.html)  
> \- [Makoto's outfit](https://www.lulus.com/products/midnight-in-paris-black-long-sleeve-dress/280412.html), but the shoes are different  
> \- Akira's outfit is... really easy to envision so I'm not giving a picture for this one lmao  
> \- [Ryuji's shirt](http://g04.a.alicdn.com/kf/HTB1uKILIXXXXXcBXpXXq6xXFXXXg/2015-Vestido-Shirt-Men-Wedding-Dress-Shirts-Social-Chemise-Homme-Stylish-Gold-Luxury-Men-Shirts-Slim.jpg)  
> \- [Yusuke's top](http://g02.a.alicdn.com/kf/HTB1GO8_KFXXXXX5aXXXq6xXFXXXs/New-2014-Party-Dress-Club-Outfit-Men-Patch-Color-Shirts-Luxury-Casual-Trendy-Slim-Silky-Pantalones.jpg), but imagine the blue part as a vest instead of actually being part of the shirt  
> \- [Morgana's look](https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/736x/b1/df/95/b1df958e808dbf464598678b4b21f0e7.jpg)
> 
> good god I am so sorry for this congrats and thanks to any of you who read this in its entirety lmao
> 
> psa: wear condoms  
> don't follow these two idiots' example
> 
>  
> 
> [personal twitter](http://www.twitter.com/lesimperatrices)  
> 


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